The Silent Dead

December 28 in Paris.

Softly, snow falls beneath the pale streetlights. Cafes are illuminated with festive lights, the city is alive with digital life, and laughter reverberates across Instagram stories. Clara decides, amid the commotion, that they will go dark this New Year no networks, no social media. Silence, snow, and escape. Liam is a cryptocurrency trader, Elise is a vlogger, Sarah is a photographer, and Maxime is a digital creator. They reserve an obscure Airbnb cabin in Saint Veyran, a little-known alpine community tucked away in the southeast French Alps. It has no mobile service, is hardly discernible on Google Maps, and has a five year old review that says, Do not trust your shadow if you return.

As nightfall descends, their vehicle navigates slippery roadways. A thick hush descends upon the path, and pines tower over it. Snow is already accumulating on the cabin's roof when they arrive. The chimney coils with smoke. Above the door is a wooden sign that says, Those who understand will never return." (Those who listen never come back.) Surrounded by technology, yet disconnected, are smart lights, immersive sound, and a virtual reality headset. The lights flicker violently that night. Strange black figures around the cabin are captured by their drone. One pauses. It has no eyes and stares straight at the drone.

Sarah is by herself, taking pictures of the snow falling through the icy windowpane. A silent, faceless person moves across the snow. Unintentionally, she flashes her camera. The figure halts. A white piece of paper slides beneath the door a few minutes You added sound. They wake up now. Sarah is gone in the morning. She still has her jacket, boots, and phone. Footsteps lead into the woodland outside. and come to a sudden stop in the snow. The last remaining villager is Father Francois, an elderly priest. He informs them, blind in one eye, "The Order of Silence, used to reside in this village. To them, sound was wickedness. The tongues of those who spoke too freely were severed and buried under the snow. Others claim to still listen while waiting. They discover old magnetic tapes in a closed attic. Whispers and sobbing are released when one is played, followed by a terrifying female voice: "You said. You will now remain with us.

They all decide to leave. The vehicle is not starting. The GPS repeats ("Return to the house") indefinitely.

Their smartphones, drones, and even smart speakers start repeating the phrase "Silence or join."

With snow crunching beneath her boots, Clara dashes toward the mountains by herself. The snow stops abruptly. She finds Sarah standing motionless in a deep fissure, her eyes empty and her skin bare. Clara's mouth remains still, but a voice within her thoughts says, "We melted into the snow." Now, you.

Clara takes refuge in the historic chapel. Without a breeze, bells toll. Her ears are filled with a metallic ringing. They tell her that she carried sound. She was noisy. She acquired information. "The code has been input by them. The curse is currently in the cloud.

January 3, Paris.

An Instagram story with the #FrozenEscape and #SaintVeyran becomes popular. The cabin, laughter, snowfall, etc., are all in the film. and a shadow, looking straight at the camera. "They returned," the caption says. But now none of them talk.

A cybersecurity analyst in Lyon finds an oddity in global data streams a few weeks later. Millions of people are sharing a quiet audio file that is precisely 00:00:00 in duration on various sites. Nobody hears it. However, people who download it start to vanish. One word entered into the search bar appears in their most recent browsing history: "Can I be followed by silence?" And a faint murmur hums through the snow beneath the frozen chapel of Saint Veyran deep in the mountains: "We are data now. eternal. Not heard.